


Watermelon

by spreadward



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:52:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4460723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spreadward/pseuds/spreadward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mud Grave Au  Edward has a terrifying nightmare about his time in the trenches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watermelon

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic for Mud Grave. Again, thanks to Berg for being such a huuuuge inspiration for this. You're the best, man!

The scent of death fills his nose, so thick and sweet that he can taste it in his mouth. Everything else is fuzzy, but one thing is certain: a heavy, pervasive sense of anxiety. Something is happening. Fuzzy voices begin to chatter in his ears, commands in a familiar language, but one he can’t quite decipher. 

Quickly it becomes clearer as his mind focuses, and his reality crashes into him like a wave against the shore, fast and completely unrelenting. He can hear gunfire, and now, mixed with the perfume of death, is the distinct scent of gunpowder. The trenches. He’s in the trenches. 

How long has he been asleep? He remembers getting the order to lie down, remembers arguing it, but he can’t remember where the sun was in the sky when he fell asleep. He throws the blanket off of him, and is about to grab his gun when he notices another helmet on the ground. Dammit… Fuck! 

He grabs it, jumps up from his temporary nest and races through the trench, the deep, sloshing mud beneath his feet making his pace sluggish. It feels like he’s barely moving at all, though in the pit of his stomach he can feel an urgency forcing his limbs forward. 

He sees Roy at the the end of the trench, his head exposed yet he’s up and fighting. Ed knows what’s coming. The dread fills him already as the mud hardens around his feet, makes each step forward a desperate struggle of strength. If he can just get there in time, maybe he’ll be okay this time… 

But his steps are slow, and Roy doesn't see him, and the bullets are moving in slow motion, and he can see how close they’re coming to hitting him and he seems so unaware of the danger. He tries to call out to him, but no sound will come out. His voice is hoarse with all the effort he’s using trying to scream his name. 

In a flash, he’s standing in front of him, and Roy is pushing him against the side of the trench and he feels so fucking ANGRY that his head isn’t protected because his helmet is still in Ed’s hand and he opens his mouth to scream at him and the loudest sound he’s ever heard in his life echoes in his ears, over and over. POP POP POP POP POP POP POP POP POP…….

His world goes silent, and in slow motion he watches Roy’s eyes widen, sees the side of his head explode, blood and brain matter splattering in the air the way the innards of a watermelon would if it were dropped on the ground. 

Ed tries to move, tries to shield himself but he’s frozen in place, can’t move even after he feels the hot spray of blood hit his face and feels the needle like sting of bits of skull bite into his skin. There’s blood in his eyes and a bit of a gelatinous something in his still open mouth. All he can see, smell and taste is blood as he stares at the form of his lover slumped back against the wall. 

He stares in horror as Roy’s face twists up to look at him, his eyes filled with betrayal.   
“Edward…” 

His name is being repeated from Roy’s dead lips. “Edward… You’ve forgotten me.” 

He can’t speak, can’t think, can’t do anything other than stare. “Who is he, Edward? Did you replace me? Did I replace him? Who do you really love, Edward?” 

He retches, hunches over and dry heaves into the mud, with Roy’s voice reverberating louder in his ears. “Who is he? Who am I? Don’t you love me, Edward?” 

He screams, jerks awake and at first panics because where the fuck is he!?!?! 

He jerks when a strong pair of arms envelope him, and Roy’s voice is both comforting and haunting. 

He turns his body into the embrace, slams his face against his chest. He’s too afraid of what he might see. His hands move on their own, up into Roy’s hair, frantically touching every bit of him to make sure he’s all there. Once isn’t enough, he can’t stop his searching, nothing is reassuring him, not even Roy’s consoling voice or the hand that’s stroking his hair. 

He’s wracked with sobs, thick tears streaming down his face, soaking Roy’s shirt and even though Roy’s comforting him, in his head all he is hearing is a voice from the past. 

“Who is he, Edward…. Who is he? Who is he? Who is it you love?”

And Edward can’t help but scream, just to try and silence that voice in his ears.


End file.
